


"Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order--FUCK"

by vivaciousirish



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bisexual Evan Hansen, Connor Deserves Happiness, Gay Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jared Kleinman Tries, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19221697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaciousirish/pseuds/vivaciousirish
Summary: Evan goes to Starbucks. That's his routine. Always has been, always will be.





	"Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order--FUCK"

**Author's Note:**

> it has been a while tm since i've posted any fic (thanks college/internship/job!) but i came across this prompt by danydehaan on tumblr that was then posted by cupoftexts on instagram and i couldn't resist. so the prompt is 
> 
> "tumblr really likes that soulmate's first word tattoo thing but tumblr also really likes coffee shop AUs like imagine being one of thousands of people running around with 'welcome to Starbucks may I take your order' tattooed from birth going into a Starbucks like 'is it you????' 'nah bro I'm waiting for someone to order a grande skinny latte extra cream" 
> 
> and i'm throwing it at evan hansen and connor murphy. hope you enjoy!

Evan goes to Starbucks. It's his routine. Always has been, always will be.

It's not the best. He kind of hates it, really; he's never liked coffee in the first places and he thinks Starbucks tastes burnt. He much prefers Dunkin Donuts because there he can at least get a cruller. But that damn tattoo on his arm interfered--interfered with his routine, interfered with his breakfast, interfered with his whole goddamn life.

Like everybody else, he had been born with his soulmate's first words to him tattooed on his arm. But unlike everybody else, who had normal phrases like "hey, I'm whoever, nice to meet you," Evan had the mantra of thousands of baristas across the country: "welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?" 

He'd thought about ignoring it, but he'd seen how things would end if he ended up with someone who wasn't his soulmate. His parents had gotten married out of desperation; they had never found their generic "nice to meet you!" and "sorry, I didn't catch your name" and given up, settling for each other. Until, of course, his dad found "sorry, I didn't catch your name" and left Evan and his mom. 

Evan couldn't take that. 

He also couldn't take being alone. It was hard enough during the hours his mom was at work and he was home from school, in his room with the silence echoing. A life of that? No, thank you.

So Evan went to Starbucks. Every morning, like clockwork, ordering the cheapest thing on the menu. Tall hot coffee. Tall hot coffee. Tall hot coffee. Day after day. Watching the baristas cycle in and out, glimpsing their forearms, always seeing something like a venti iced matcha green tea latte with almond milk instead of his order. 

He was really close to giving up. 

Jared seemed to think that he should. 

"I mean, come on, Evan," he said one day over lunch. "Don't be an idiot. If it was going to happen, I think it would've happened by now. You've been going to that Starbucks every day for the past two years."

Alana definitely disagreed. 

"Don't listen to Jared, Evan!" she exclaimed one day in the computer lab. "Statistically speaking, you probably haven't met your soulmate yet because you've been limiting yourself to one Starbucks at one time. Branch out! Try a different shift or a different location. And don't give up! For all you know, they could be at a Starbucks where you go to college, or in the city you're living in when you're thirty!" 

Even though they were trying to help--or Alana was--Evan didn't exactly feel encouraged. But he tried. He went to Starbucks after school instead of before, to the one by the library instead of by his house, to the second cash register instead of the first. Day after day. Tall hot coffee. Tall hot coffee. Tall hot coffee. And nothing. 

Senior year ended. Jared and Alana both went off to universities that, to hear them tell it, had Starbucks on every corner filled with eligible bachelors and bachelorettes for baristas. Evan stayed behind in their hometown, taking a handful of classes at community college and stocking shelves at Pottery Barn and determinedly going to the coffee shop with the smug mermaid logo.

Aside from his utter lack of romantic prospects, things are going pretty okay, he thinks one day as he's sipping his coffee. He's actually started needing it, between classes and long work hours, but it's worth it. He's saved enough money and gotten good enough grades to transfer to the state university where Jared goes. They're going to split the cost of an apartment and he's going to major in ecology and then maybe, since his luck seems to be changing, he'll come across his soulmate in one of those campus Starbucks. 

Unfortunately, on move-in day, he's met with a horrific sight. 

"Under construction, Jared?" he shrieks. "Construction? For how long? What am I supposed to do?"

Jared follows Evan's gaze out the window. There's a nearly perfect view of the Starbucks across the street, right between their apartment complex and campus, but it's surrounded by cranes and construction workers in bright orange vests. "Oh yeah." He shrugs. "Sorry, buddy. I forgot."

Evan flops onto his bed. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Calm down. There are plenty of indie coffee shops around here where you can get your fix."

"I mean my soulmate, Jared."

"I know what you mean." Jared sighs and sits down next to him. "Evan, listen. I know you want to find your soulmate and I get it. Being alone sucks. But it's not healthy to pin all of your hopes on one person. It's not fair to them or to you. So will you get off your ass and go try Don't Spill the Beans or something?"

Jared leaves.

Evan stares after him. Typical Jared. Caring and cadid. 

Even though he's disappointed at the lack of a Starbucks, he does still want coffee. What had Jared just said? 

He opens Google Maps and checks. Don't Spill the Beans is a five minute walk away, and the photos look cozy and calm. Better than Starbucks, actually. 

He rolls off the bed, grabs his cardigan, and heads out the door. 

Don't Spill the Beans is just as perfect as the photos looked. He can't even see the cash register when he opens the door--he's met with a maze of nooks and corners, bookshelves and armchairs tucked away, rich colors and the faint smell of a crackling fire that he thinks he glimpses somewhere in the back. 

He allows himself to wander, leafing through the various books and examining the tchotchkes on every surface. He can hear the low voices of employees as he delves further into the little shop, and for once, his heart rate doesn't spike at the thought of interacting with them. They sound nice. They don't sound like they're going to judge his simple order. Or stare at his arm wondering why he's not at the other chain like the Dunkin employees always do. 

He rounds a corner and finds himself face-to-face with a counter where a girl with an armful of indigo henna tattoos and a boy with long hair are standing. The girl is making a pot of tea, literally, with leaves in a physical teapot. The boy is--

Evan isn't paying attention to what the boy is doing because he's the most beautiful boy Evan's ever seen. 

He has brown eyes that look like coffee, the exact dark shade of coffee Evan likes, and long hair with a little curl to it and he's wearing a dark gray sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. There's even a little quirk at the side of his mouth when he smiles a little at the girl as she's showing him how to make the tea. It disappears after a second and Evan can't tear his eyes away because he wants to see it again and again and again. 

And god, Evan is so lost in thought about how he could make that little quirk appear again that he doesn't even think about how this isn't the right place and he almost doesn't hear when the boy says, 

"welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order? FUCK!" 

Evan's jaw drops. 

The boy, oblivious, is talking. "God, I'm sorry, Zoe, I can't break that goddamn habit." 

"No worries, Connor," the girl is replying. "Happens all the time when we hire people away from the corporations."

Evan, meanhwile, is straining to see what might be on the boy's arm but his sleeve has fallen down and he can't and now the boy--Connor, the name breaks through Evan's haze--is turning towards Evan and saying, "Sorry about that, welcome to whatever-the-fuck hipster coffee house I work at now, what can I get you?"

Evan lets out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding and in one fast rush, says, "oh my god it's you I can't believe it's you."

Connor freezes. "Oh my god." 

"It's--I'm--"

"Me too--you're my--shit." Connor pushes up his sleeve again and shows Evan, in black and white on his forearm, the words "oh my god it's you I can't believe it's you." 

Evan holds out his arm and shows. Starbucks Connor laughs, breathlessly. "I hope you haven't been looking for me in the wrong fucking coffee shops all these years."

"Um...yeah, actually. I've--drank a lot of bad coffee trying to find you." 

Zoe grins. "I'll get out of your hair so you can try some decent coffee for once. And the barista, of course." 

"Zoe!" Connor shouts, pushing her further away. "Feel free to ignore my dumbass sister. She's been waiting far too long for this moment."

Evan laughs. He likes Zoe, likes the way he feels safe and comfortable laughing in this coffee shop, and he definitely likes Connor--Connor, who is now right in front of him. 

"So." He smiles gently. "I'm Connor Murphy."

Evan looks up at him and melts. "I'm Evan Hansen."


End file.
